The Birth of Sleipnir
by Jordis Stigander
Summary: "Go throughout the stable, round up all mares that are in heat, and bring them to me." The stable master did not question Loki's order, but that didn't stop him from shaking his head as he sent stable boys to do as the prince said. Royalty was a strange lot.


"Something must be done." Odin looked around at his council, and the members did their best to evade his gaze. His young sons sat near him at the head of the table, Thor at his right hand, Loki at his left.

"I say we teach the builder not to be so insolent in his demands," Thor said as he stood, slamming his hand on the table. His face was smooth, and his eyes burned with excitement.

"You can't just beat those who demand the promised payment for their work," Loki said, raising an eyebrow at Thor's antics. The seemingly relaxed figure of the green-clad prince stood in stark contrast to his brother's vibrating body. "Do so and you will destroy the good faith of our people and the trust of our allies." His voice was mild despite the rebuking nature of his words.

"And what do you propose we do?" Thor demanded, voice raised.

"We pay him what we promised." The prince's matter-of-fact proposal caused a stir around the table as mutters of surprise and indignation burst from the mouths of the assembled council members.

"Surely you cannot be serious?" Thor asked incredulously, staring at his brother. He was nearly shouting to make himself heard over the council.

"I would have thought it was the 'honorable' thing to do," Loki replied smoothly. He plucked at the sleeves of his tunic, seemingly oblivious to the commotion he'd just caused.

"This is not the time for jokes," Odin chastised him, "You know why we cannot do that."

"If we can't pay, why did we accept the contract in the first place?"

"Because there should have been no way the builder could complete the wall around Asgard within the time limit," said one of the councilors indignantly, an aging warrior whose belly had seen better days, "We assumed that he would fail."

"It's foolish to wager what one cannot afford to lose," Loki remarked, dryly, "We gambled and lost, and it's time to pay our debts."

"But we cannot give him what he asks," Odin objected, "According the contract, we must give him the Casket of Ancient Winters and the Tablet of Life and Time if he manages to complete Asgard's defense on the agreed day. These relics are far too powerful to pass over into the hands of a stranger."

"Well then, there's only one thing left to do," Loki suggested, "stop the builder from finishing on time."

"Sabotage?" A councilor asked. Thor scowled.

"That is not an honorable course of action for a warrior!" He protested. A sarcastic look came to Loki's green eyes.

"Because beating the man you hired is a deed fit to be immortalized by the bards in song, I suppose," he replied. Thor huffed, but had no answer.

"And how are we to insure that he does not finish in time?" Odin inquired. All present looked at Loki.

* * *

_Curse my tongue_, Loki thought to himself. He needed to learn to bite his tongue. He had embarrassed his father, his brother, and the entire council, and in recompense they had saddled him with the task of halting the work on the wall.

He sat perched on a stone outside the city, observing the progress. Dressed in simple clothing, he'd placed a spell over his appearance so that none would recognize him as the youngest son of Odin. Not that anyone would have paid him much notice. Loki shifted on the rock and sighed. It had been an hour and he was still lacking a plan. He had only a week before the time dictated in the contract expired. By Loki's estimation, the builder would be finished three days before then.

Musing, Loki listed possibilities in his mind. If his father lent him Mjolnir, he could conjure a storm strong enough to halt the builder. But that storm would have to last three days, and there was no telling what kind of damage it would do to the surrounding countryside. He could always make the builder fall ill, but there was always the danger he might die. Besides, if they were going to cause physical harm to the man, it would just be simpler to let Thor loose on him.

As he considered and rejected a variety of plans, the builder ran out of building material. The man whistled, and a massive gold horse trotted into view. The man jumped on his back, and in a flash he was gone, returning momentarily with a load of material.

Loki smiled. The horse was the answer. That creature was clearly magical, and it was doubtful the builder could work half as quickly without its assistance.

Harming it was out of the question, but if he could find a way to distract it for a day or two…

* * *

Loki strode into the stables, the sound of his boots muffled by straw-strewn floor. He called for the stable master, and the man ran over and bowed.

"What can I do for you, sire?"

"Go throughout the stable, round up all mares that are in heat, and bring them to me."

The man did not question Loki's order, but that didn't stop him from shaking his head as he sent stable boys to do as the prince said.

Royalty was a strange lot.

Loki inspected the half-dozen or so mares. They were a varied lot, black and brown and white, solid and spotted, large and heavy and small and sleek.

"Which one is the fastest?" he asked.

"The black one is the fastest, sire," the stable master said, pointing, "but the spotted one there could run from here to Alfheim without stopping once. As long as you give her a bit of a head start, there's no catching her. Besides," he said, patting her side, "you can always trust a spotted horse."

Loki ran his hand over the spotted mare's flank. She was small and sleek, unassuming in appearance. She tried to nibble on the sleeve of his green shirt.

"Very well, then," Loki said, "Bring her to the front gate."

* * *

When they finally reached the front gate, Loki took the mare from the handlers. He held her head in his hands, speaking to her softly and running his hand along her muzzle. He looked into her dark eyes and placed his left hand on the side of her head.

After a moment, he released her. Loki's eyes were a bit vacant as his hands fell to his sides.

"No one is to interfere with her," the prince said. The little spotted horse trotted out of the gates in the direction of the builder. Loki leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

The little horse approached the builder as he unloaded materials from his golden steed. The stallion's nostrils flared as it sensed the mare's approach.

With a cry, it turned towards the mare, fighting the grasping hands of the builder. The spotted horse took off, and after a few moments, the stallion broke free from its owner, golden hooves drawing sparks as it pursed the fleeing mare.

* * *

The mare didn't return until that evening, having outrun the pursuing stallion. Loki opened his eyes and stood from his position against the wall, speaking softly to the mare again and sending it back to the stables to be cared for.

Loki sent out the mare again the second day, and then the third. When his horse broke free the third day, the owner flew into a rage and stormed into the city. Thor and a group of warriors went out to restrain him, and in the ensuing fight, the man's disguise shattered. Blue coursed across his skin, revealing him to be a Frost Giant. Thor killed him immediately.

The gathered crowd hailed Thor as the defender of Asgard, striking down the hidden enemy.

The golden horse never reappeared, but the little spotted mare returned pregnant. To everyone's surprise, the foal was born with eight legs instead of four. White with golden hooves, it soon proved itself faster than any horse in the royal stables or anywhere in Asgard.

Loki named it Sleipnir and gave it to his father as a gift.

Rumors of the horse's true origins began to circulate. Hearsay mingled with rumor and speculation. The fact that Loki was a shape-shifter was made much of, and so was his strange attachment to Sleipnir. Could it be that the young prince had transformed himself into a horse, female no less, to lure away the golden stallion? Had he underestimated the stallion's resolve and been caught?

Or perhaps he had allowed the stallion to catch him; he was a strange one after all.

At first it was a whisper, then a rumor, a conspiracy, and finally a much accepted fact. Whenever Loki was teased in the future, it was inevitable that someone would bring up his love of horses or ask him what it was like to be pregnant. Over time, he stopped trying to deny it.

No one ever sang songs of how a young prince outwitted a builder to prevent relics of power from falling into the hands of the Jotuns.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

"The Birth of Sleipnir" is part of the back story for another story I'm writing, "Dream Walker." I'm posting this and some other stories separately from DW because I felt they were good enough to stand on their own. Also because I feel guilty for not updating DW for a month. I will also be publishing stories about Loki and Sigyn.

Are there any other Loki myths you'd like revisited? Let me know!


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